


The Ties of Friendship

by angelofsymphonia



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, The Gaffer joins the journey, mpreg mentions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelofsymphonia/pseuds/angelofsymphonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another kink meme fill! Original post here: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/5346.html?thread=11606242#t11606242</p><p>Hamfast comes along on the adventure, and is the Sam to Bilbo's Frodo.</p><p>ON HIATUS until author can find a good direction to continue the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: This story does contain mentions of male pregnancy, if you don't particularly enjoy the subject then please don't continue.
> 
> Anyone else, enjoy! :)

Raged shouts filled the stagnant night air as he ran, his arms trembling and his joints screaming in protest as they struggled to keep grip on the large bundle in his arms. His slightly pointed ears rang loudly with the sounds of his own pounding heart, but he did not stop. He could not stop.

How did he find himself in this situation? Just a few days prior he was merely an average hobbit, not even important enough to speak to this person in his arms, and yet they had shown him so much kindness and friendship. 

He would, in turn, protect his fellow hobbit who had been so generous with his time and wisdom, teaching him the skill of writing and knowledge beyond his years.

"C'mon, Mister Bilbo, not too far now.." He whispered to the prone form of his bundle, one Bilbo Baggins of Bag End.

\------

Morning rays filtered through the moth eaten curtains in the hobbit hole of one Hamfast Gamgee, the light illuminating the strawberry blond locks of the hobbit as he stretched in preparation for a day's work. He had long since been working as a gardener and care taker to Bilbo Baggins, and he had to say so far the job had been nothing but pleasant. The gentle book-savvy hobbit had offered him great kindness, and didn't treat him as a mere servant to the upperclass.

He'd even been secretly teaching Hamfast how to write the Common language, though he did not know when a lowly gardener such as himself would ever use such a skill he was eternally grateful to Bilbo.

Smiling to himself as he washed and dressed for the day, he thought to himself that perhaps he would stop by the travelling market in town today to pick up some quality taters for his Master today as a thanks, Bilbo's own crop would not be in season for another two moons but the gentlehobbit was partial to Hamfast's homecooked stew.

Pulling his breeches on and looking at his reflection in the dusty, crooked mirror stationed at the side of his dresser he knew this was as good as he would get. A simple hobbit, with a self-proclaimed plain face, no discerning features to attract the hobbit lasses and lads. Just plain old Gamgee features; a rather large nose, on a pleasantly rotund face - not too plump mind, just enough it would be acceptable.  
He had been told, in his earlier years, his most striking features were his coppery blond hair, and his lovely emerald eyes that sparkled when he laughed. His face reddened softly at the memory, his absent mind wondering if anyone other than his own mother would ever think that.  
Stepping out the house with a dejected shake of his head, Hamfast was on his way. If folk 'round here knew he was a Bearer, they just might think differently of him.

Bearers were scarce in the Shire, so treasured them to the 'highest regard'. The gardener scoffed at that, as treasured to some hobbits apparently meant sold off as nothing more than slaves to the highest bidder, no matter what their stature, seemed to be a confused definition of regard to him.

The term bearer had not always existed in Hobbiton, the unique race had inhabited the land for centuries for certain. They came to pass when hobbits had nearly faced extinction in the absence of a large populus of females, and as such had made a deal with the fairies to allow the men of their land to procreate.

And so, Bearers had come into existence. And to this day, there were still some born with the gift, marked at birth with a unique mark formed as a small oak tree on their bodies.

As Hamfast passed down the streets of the Shire, greeting his fellow working hobbits as he traveled, his hand absently rubbed at his own oak birthmark, at his hip, through the cloth of his breeches. His mother, like many other parents of their race, had kept his heritage a secret from the community, protecting her son's secret until her passing, taking it to her regretfully early grave.

Snapping out of his musing, the serving hobbit found himself at the marketplace, taking in the life and colour the stalls possessed with a peaceful smile. A call of 'Taters! Quality taters from Bree's best farm!' caught his attention above the rest of the noise, and he bustled over to the halfling advertising such. Examining the vegetables, he picked only the best of the bunch before handing the other his coin with a smile, and heading on his way. He hummed a lively tune as he made his way to Bag End, carefully carrying his surprise package for his friend as he thought on what he would make for his Master.

However, before he could arrive at the comfy hobbit home, a ruckus nearby make his ears perk up with interest. A gaggle of hobbits were crowded around one mischievous Sackville-Baggins by the name of Otho as he preached to them.

"It is true!" He called above the crowd, his grating voice making Hamfast frown without even knowing what he was speaking of. "My mother herself has seen the mark! I swear it."

Gasps echoed around the crowd, and mutterings were heard amongst them. Something in Hamfast's demeanor dropped, talk of 'marks' could only lead to...

"Bilbo Baggins is a Bearer, it is certain!" Otho screeched gleefully, mischief in his gaze. He had planted a seed of curiosity in his listener's minds, and now they would not stop until they knew the truth. Hamfast swallowed dryly, his breath caught in throat. He needed to find his Master, and swiftly. 

Turning, he bolted through the bustling streets, not stopping for breath until he was at his Master's hole. Banging on the sturdy door of Bag End, Hamfast shouted urgently, "Mister Bilbo! Mister Bilbo, please let me ent'r! It is Hamfast, I've urgent news!"

He heard slow footsteps approaching, and within moments was greeted with the smiling face of his friend.

"Hamfast!" Bilbo acknowledged his guest jovially, laughter in his voice as he asked, "Whatever is all this ruckus about?"

Seeing his friend's rumpled appearance, Bilbo couldn't help but worry on the subject of the news Hamfast bore. Knowing the taller hobbit for many a year, Bilbo had never quite seen him so ruffled.

"It's the townsfolk..!" Hamfast wheezed, his previous excursion catching up to him. "That wretched Otho told'm you're a Bearer!"

Bilbo froze, cold dread freezing him in place for several moments as his brain processed the information. "What...?" His legs, suddenly boneless, collapsed beneath him as he fell to unto his knees, his suddenly shaking hand moving to caress a spot just above his hip.

Hamfast, noticing the gesture with widened eyes, choked out. "Oh, Mister Bilbo.. I-It's true, isn't it..?"

A strangled whimper escaped the Baggins master, as he looked up at his companion in shock, and slight awe. "How did you know?"

Blushing a lovely red, Hamfast ushered them both into the home properly before lifting his own shirt from where it had been tucked into his trousers, revealing to his dearest friend the mark on his own skin.

Stuttering out an uneasy laugh, the gardener whispered. "I s'ppose it's like you're always sayin', Mister Bilbo, it takes w'n t' know w'n."

Wide eyes met his own, slowly but most surely understanding filling the blue-green depths of Bilbo's gaze. "Hamfast.." He breathed, looking dejectedly to the floor from where he was seated by the other in his most comfortable armchair. "What shall become of me? What shall I do...?"

Slavery, the mere idea of belonging to one person without any will of his own, did not seem a befitting end for Bilbo, the scared hobbit had only just come of age and had always dreamt of adventure, of elves and faraway lands in mystical mountains. None of these dreams included him becoming a little more than a breeding mule for some unknown owner.

"We'll run, Mister Bilbo." Hamfast spoke suddenly from behind him, making the smaller creature jump softly. In Hamfast's hands he held two steaming cups of tea, handing one to the distraught hobbit. 

Carefully, he continued. "We'll run as far as we can to get away from th' mobs."

His gardener knelt before him, smiling up at the him with nothing but loyalty in his gaze. Hamfast knew this was how he was supposed to repay his Master's kindness; they would go on an adventure that Bilbo had so craved.

"C'mon, Mister Bilbo, we've packin' to do!" And with that Hamfast frantically started gathering supplies from the cupboards, travelling packs from the storage room and two cloaks from their long forgotten place on Bilbo's coat rack. 

Bewildered, Bilbo let himself be dragged from his cosy armchair and out the low window behind his house, Hamfast securing his cloak around him as he was pulled.

"Hamfast..?!" He yelped, wanting nothing more than just a few minutes to process all this new information before being rushed off.  
Sparing a look to the front entrance of Bag End, his eyes grew wide as he saw the numerous bodies outside the house, yelling and thumping could be heard as they demanded he answer at once. The weapons they were wielding did not go unnoticed, either. Clubs, pitchforks and ropes to ensure he did not put up a fight.

Looking up to Hamfast, he nodded solemnly, his confirmation of his acceptance to their leave.

Smiling with a restless air about him, Hamfast Gamgee spoke in what he attempted to make a reassuring tone:

"Mister Bilbo, it looks as though w're goin' on'n adventure!"


	2. The Company

Prancing Pony. Thorin frowned at what looked little more than a glorified inn with rightful apprehension. The pouring rain did nothing to convince the dwarf that this dingy little pub was a suitable meeting place for him and his company.

Kings, princes and their fellow friends did not meet to discuss matters of such great importance in places such as these. He would have to have words with his wizard when they next met, the man had left them to meet here while he gathered valuable information for their upcoming quest.

The quest, Thorin thought, to bring them back to their home. Unbidden, he could not stop the small smile that graced his lips as he thought of Erebor, his home under the mountain. However, it was not long before his mind drifted to it's terrible past, and it's present state, drawing a frown unto his features.

Smaug.. A horrifying creature who had ruined the land of Erebor; Thorin's birthright. The would be king had sworn the day the creature had attacked that he would take back his kingdom, no matter the cost. And to do that he needed his wizard, Gandalf the Grey, to help him.  
Grumbling under his breath, reflecting upon his unfortunate life so far, he stepped inside the pub. Knowing his company would already be inside, he scanned the area, trying not to draw attention to himself.

Just as he was ready to give up, not spotting his fellow dwarves and subjects anywhere in the vicinity, his attention was brought to a mighty ruckus in one of the back rooms. Cheers and song filtered through the air, and with a semi-amused shake of his head, Thorin took himself in the direction of the noise.

There, enjoying the ale and food, were all eleven missing members of his company, with the accounted exception of Gandalf.  
Sighing, Thorin apologised to the bar staff on behalf of the misbehaving dwarves before re-entering the room and letting the others know of his presence.

"Quiet!" He barked suddenly, silence befalling the group before him as they all stared in shock at the figure of their king.  
"Thorin, good of you to join us." Came the gruff call of Dwalin, one of Thorin's friends since he was but a babe. "Do you bring good tidings for us, with your presence?"

A small shake of his head stole away all merriment in the air. "No-one will join us, in our quest. It appears we must continue on as a party of thirteen to reclaim our home, brothers."

Solemn nods from around the table signalled to Thorin his words were understood, but it was his own nephew, Fili, who brought to light a question plaguing many of the company's minds.

"Uncle, what of Gandalf's words? Your promise to him?" Thorin grimaced as he remembered that foolish wizard's words, the thought had been struck from his mind long ago.

Scowling once more, his voice rang true with no room for argument. "We will not encounter any strangers on our journeys, and if we do we will certainly not being accepting them as additions to our company."

Turning his attention to the room beyond them, he quickly moved to the bar and settled the tab, started by his brothers, with gold. Returning to his charges, he announced to them. "We shall move out at once. I have secured us thirteen ponies for our travels."

\------

Their journey so far had been uneventful, struggling to keep their swift pace as exhaustion set in. Still, the little hobbits ran through the dark trees, shivering as night set up the land.

Wheezing, unused to so much physical exercise, Bilbo sharply tugged on his companion's battered coat with the intention of halting him and sank onto a particularly large tree root.

"A moment to rest..." Bilbo sputtered. "Please, Hamfast..!"

Smiling apologetically at the scholarly hobbit, Hamfast nodded. "Apologies, Mister Bilbo, I know y'ain't used to running of this sort."

Taking in the inky black sky above them, the gardener allowed a worried frown to adorn his usual cheerful features. "They've not stopped p'rsuing us, Mister Bilbo, and a storms a'brewing."

Bilbo followed his gaze, seeing nothing in particular about the sky to indicate as such. But, he trusted Hamfast, and the hobbit had never been wrong about the forecast before.

Nodding resolutely, Bilbo set his mouth into a grim line of determination. "Then we shall continue on, friend."

Nevertheless, the smaller halfling's resolution seemed hopeless when the first raindrop hit, heavy and loud again the quiescent forest between them and their unsure destination. Bilbo flinched as an icy droplet hit his head, the cold around them making the sudden weather that much worse to bear.

Within half of the hour, they were both shivering profusely. Within the full hour's duration, Bilbo's body was glacial to touch, his movements sluggish and every drop of rain that penetrated his body felt like a minuscule dagger through his skin.

He clung to his gardener steadfastly, fever beginning to boil through his veins as he struggled to keep himself upright. Ages felt like they had passed since he had been seated on the wood, and Bilbo had to wonder idly how Hamfast could adapt to this climate change so wholly.

"Mister Bilbo..?" He heard from slightly above him, and to his surprise Bilbo realised they had halted. Since when had Hamfast stopped dragging him? The world still seemed to move.

"Mister Bilbo," His companion repeated, shaking him gently to capture his wandering attention. "Please, Mister Bilbo, only a'couple miles more. Bree's jus' across this brush, Mister Bilbo, then we c'n rest a'while!"

The concern in Hamfast's captivating green eyes made Bilbo nod, just to assuage some of that worry, but as soon as he moved to take another step his body crumpled under his own weight, fever taking hold.

Hurriedly, Hamfast bent to check on his master, his heart jumping to his throat as he checked the other's temperature. "Y're burnin' up, Mister Bilbo..."

He didn't know what to do, he was no certain healer, only small remedies he had no access to now. "Don' you go dying on me, not 'fter all this so far.."

Silence was his only response, only heightened his uneasiness. Quickly, he lifted Bilbo from the ground and hoisted him over his shoulder, ignoring the mumbled protests from the fevered hobbit and starting to make his way through the forest with both of their weight.

"I ain't quittin' on you, Mister Bilbo." He reassured the prone form, struggling under both their mass in the relentless rain. "N't after you nev'r quit on me."

As he walked through the dark forest, he reflected on the countless, painstaking hours Bilbo had sat with him as he attempted to write, and read scrolls the smaller had written. Any simpler hobbit would have given up and cast Hamfast aside, but the man in his arms had proven to be a much greater person than that, a much greater friend.

And with that at the forefront of his mind, Hamfast did not stop. His muscles protested and his own body's ailments were overtaking, but he would not stop until he knew Bilbo was safe.

Relief flooded through him as he finally reached the outskirts of Bree, allowing himself a momentary rest as he checked over his companion once more.

He almost didn't spot the ponies thundering toward him at an alarming rate until it was too late.

\------

Thorin frowned at the ever present storm clouds as his company rode, cautious of the slippery roads and brush around them. It was not long before they found themselves nearly out of the small town, and headed to meet Gandalf at a location they knew to be east-west of Bree, despite they did not know their destination by name.

"Thorin! Halt!" He heard from behind him, pulling him from his musings as he brought his steed to a sudden stop. 

Then, he saw the reason behind his company's shout. There, on the dark road ahead of them, were two creatures unlike he had ever seen before, one cradling the other as though they were a babe.

Grunting, Thorin went to motion his company around the two obstructions before he heard the faint, tired voice of one speak up, "Help, please! My friend needs help..."


	3. The Adventure Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your amazing comments! I'm so happy people enjoy reading this story and I hope you guys will let me know what you think of this chapter!
> 
> Concrit is welcome, this story in unbeta'd at the moment.

Breath was stolen from him as Hamfast looked upon the imposing shadows of the men before him. They had to be men, they weren't much larger than hobbits but he had no knowledge of any race that they could be otherwise. Elves did not look like this, if Bilbo's books had any truth behind them. 

"Help..." He pleaded softly to them again, offering them a look at Bilbo's prone body. Men would not harm his companion, if Hamfast understood anything. Men were honourable creatures.

The leader of their group seemed fierce, but with a gulp Hamfast stared into that steely glare. This was for Bilbo, and for Bilbo's safety he had to be fearless.

One of the other men had dismounted his pony, but it did not catch Hamfast's attention until he felt a warm hand pressed to his cheek. Breaking eye contact with the leader, he snapped his gaze to look, shocked, into the brown eyes of a most handsome man.

"Thorin," The man called, as Hamfast's face reddened at the attention of such a beautiful bearded creature. "The little folk here are absolutely frozen! They need help."

A growl came from 'Thorin', which made Hamfast flinch. Was this really Bilbo's saviour.

"Bofur," Thorin bit out, "They do not need our help. Now come, we shall continue."

But Hamfast could not allow that. "Please, sir! I d'nt care about me, but please take him!"

He looked down at his friend, frustrated tears welling in his eyes. He needed to protect Bilbo, to repay the kindness that had been shown to him. If these people could take Bilbo with them, he would be far away from the clutches of the Shirefolk, and Hamfast would return for the punishment he would surely receive for aiding in Bilbo's escape.

That thought alone had his stomach twist. He knew the punishment for stuff such as this, and it wasn't good.

"Little one," A whispered voice near his ear, warm breath against his frozen skin, brought him back to the handsome man bent over him, "you speak as though this person's life is more precious than your own.. Why?"

Biting his lip, the gardener hesitated with his answer. "B'cos it surely is. I have a debt tha' needs repayin'."

Smiling at him, the beautiful male then turned to his leader with his own determined expression. "Thorin, you remember what Gandalf said. We have encountered people who are in need of help."

Another voice piped up from behind, a blond man coming into view as he gently rode to their leader. "Bofur is right, uncle. Gandalf was very clear we should take them with us."

With a poisonous glare down to the hobbit, the leader spoke in an acid tone directly to Hamfast. "You or your companion see fit to disrupt our quest, I will dispatch of you immediately. We ride east-west, find someone to share a pony with."

With that, the man known as Thorin turned and started riding slowly. One of the other companions of the man pulled the unconscious Bilbo up to ride with him, and Hamfast flushed brightly as he was pulled onto the man named Bofur's pony, a warm arm wrapping around him as they began their journey.

"Um, 'scuse me, Thorin...?" Hamfast called, his voice unsteady with worry he would anger the leader. "East-west, well.. It'll be that way.."  
The amused snickers echoing around him did nothing to help Hamfast forget the icy glare sent his way.

However, silence proceeded to reign for the first hour's ride after that, Hamfast enjoying the warmth surrounding him but still much to busy fretting over what would happen to Bilbo, taking in the scenery and trying to ignore the near torrential downfall.

"I realise," A voice much too close to his sensitive ear spoke, causing his body to tense, "I have rather rudely forgotten to introduce myself!" A rumbling laugh, full of kindness and joy, had Hamfast's face heated as he pictured the face that accompanied the sound.

"The name's Bofur, at your service." He hummed into his smaller companion's ear, sending a pleasant shiver down the hobbit's spine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, little one."

\------

Bofur smirked as he awaited a response from the wriggling creature in his arms. Since he had laid eyes on the beauty not but hours before he had been entranced. But then what was not to like?

Though dark and plastered to his face, Bofur could see the hints of copper woven through the figure's sandy hair, the cute button nose, and oh Mahal those eyes. More dazzling than any precious stones he had seen, those emerald eyes seem to possess an unknown power that pulled his very soul toward them.

He could not abandon this halfling, and for that he hoped Thorin would forgive him.

"Hamfast Gamgee.." His riding companion mumbled into the wind, barely above a whisper. "Hobbit of the Shire. Though I'd said me name ain't got much truth behind it's meanin' now."

A hobbit. Bofur blinked, he had not encountered a hobbit before, the little folk of the farm lands were not know to venture from their homes for any reason, comfortable to live in isolation from the rest of Middle Earth.

So how, by chance, did their company manage to stumble upon two? Bofur scratched at his beard in contemplation, before remembering he need only voice his question to get the information he needed.

"So, little Hamfast, why are two hobbits such as yourselves travelling so far from home?" Bofur couldn't disguise the giddy feeling that ran through his being as he tested the name on his lips, and he ignored the look his brother shot him from the distance as he pulled the halfling closer.

The little beauty opened his mouth, with what Bofur could assume would have been a reply, had he not been interrupted before he could speak.

"Uncle!" Came a hurried shout from Kili, who was holding Hamfast's smaller friend. "Uncle, please, he needs more warmth than I can provide..."

Thorin's nephew seemed desperate, and upon closer inspection all could see why. The smallest, albeit temporary, member of their group was not looking good at all. Already pale lips had turned blue with the cold, and though unconscious he was shivering violently in his still soaked clothing.

Looking over at the slender figure, Thorin could not mask his unhappiness any more than he had this entire episode of their journey. The king moved to Kili's pony, surveying the hobbit, and Bofur could not help but notice his own little cargo seemed very on edge about what the would-be king would do to his friend.

He also noticed the sharp intake of surprise when Hamfast, and all the other company coincidently, witnessed something they would have never expected. Seasoned warrior and seemingly uncaring Thorin Oakenshield pulling the tiny unconscious being from Kili's grasp and placing him in his own lap, wrapping his thick furs around the fatigued unknown hobbit.

Nor did anyone present expect to see said unconscious hobbit moan softly, and snuggle blindly into the sudden warmth.

Thorin stiffened, not wanting to admit that the feeling of this body against his own felt right, in some way… He grunted, unhappy with his own process of thoughts. "We continue now, no more complaints."

Surely enough, for the next leg of their journey no more was said on the matter. Everyone seemed content with the silence as they thought on the strange turn of events. How had Gandalf predicted that they would meet these two new creatures?

Thorin, more than anyone in the company, had many questions that plagued his mind. Stealing a glance down to the bundle in his grasp, he studied the features of the hobbit. He was an attractive thing, it was obvious to see. Next to an Elf, it would be more be difficult to see beauty of the halfling, but as a dwarf Thorin could admire the plainer aspects of this individual.

He tightened his cloak around himself and the other as a particularly large gust of wind pelted rain towards them all. Another frown marred his features; he could not afford distractions such as these within his quest, he had to focus and the temptation of this creature's flesh would not help him in the slightest.

\------

For days they had been riding, barely stopping for anything as the hobbit's condition worsened steadily. Bilbo had yet to wake, and even though no dwarf knew him, they couldn't help but worry for the little thing, as he shook from an invisible chill and felt burning to the touch.  
Hamfast, for all his worth, gathered herbs from their surroundings, making salves and medicines when he could to soothe his friend's ailments. He also helped Bombur to attend to the meals, the strawberry blond happy that he could connect with the round one through their mutual love of cooking. In fact, all the dwarves (as he had found out they were, in fact, called) had been mildly welcoming, some overly so, but he could not help the redness that filled his cheeks as he thought of how Bofur was treating him.

The hat-loving dwarf had been so very gentle, helping him with everything Hamfast needed to do. He would hoist him up if the hobbit needed a herb a little too far from both of their grasps, onto clifftops, and he had cared for him when he was sodden and verging on his own illness. Bofur had stripped him down to his undergarments and draped Hamfast in his heavy furs, leaving the damp clothes by the fire to dry out for the night on the rare nights they rested for a while.

Of course, Hamfast had no way of knowing that the dwarf had found it utterly adorable to see his clothes practically hanging off the gardener's frame, and would have ravished him right then and there if it had not been for the presence of his fellow brothers.  
However, what the hobbit did know was he was grateful when he spotted the gruff leader, Thorin, doing the same for Bilbo that the handsome Bofur had done for him. It was nice to know he didn't have to worry so much about the other, he was in good hands with Thorin.  
It was well into the night on that first night of camping out, though, when one of the company had spotted the matching marks on Bilbo and Hamfast's hip. Their birthmarks.

"Little hobbit," Balin called, addressing Hamfast as he passed Bofur a bowl of steaming stew. "What is the meaning of that birthmark?"  
Suddenly uncomfortable under the elder dwarf's scrutinising gaze, he tried to hide the mark. Especially since the topic change seemed to have caught the eye of every other among them, as well. Worrying his lip, Hamfast's mind flashed to the folk in the Shire, their treatment of the bearers, and tried to convince himself that these dwarfs.. They were different. They were kind, and had taken them into their care. With much hesitation, he fumbled out, "'s the mark of a Bearer…"

Looking up into the shocked gazes around him, Hamfast knew instantly that the dwarfs knew what race he was speaking of. It was well known around Middle Earth, a mystical race among the people of the lands.

"It's true then." Dwalin grunted, sharpening his weapon and listening in on the conversation. "Bearers exist."

Murmurs were heard around the camp, but Hamfast was focused on none more than Bofur, the dwarf looked positively shocked as he gazed upon the little blond hobbit with a grin. But the night moved on from there, no-one mentioning anything further on the subject for which Hamfast was glad, and soon they were moving on their ponies again, aided only by a strange glowing stone which seemed to shine when they were heading in the correct direction.

Gandalf had given it to the dwarfs, Hamfast had heard. Smiling, he remembered the grey wizard coming to the Shire and celebrating with the hobbits, his famed fireworks being ignited to entertain the young ones.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the distraction, Hamfast attempted to look upon Bilbo from his position atop of Bofur's steed, all the while trying desperately to ignore the heat seeping into his back from the figure, who was whistling happily just to endear him more to Hamfast, behind him.


	4. Rivendell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so sorry about the delay in this chapter!! Have had personal things to sort through this week, hope you guys enjoy this chapter and sorry it took so long!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: I have added more to this chapter, I'm sorry it's not another one yet. Life has got in the way of things. ^^;

Thunder hit like a terrifying blanket as they neared their destination, moving through mountains on a path that steadily became more elegant, intricate patterns carved into the rocks around them. Thorin had a heavy feeling in his stomach, uneasy of his surroundings and where the wizard Gandalf was leading them. Still he held the little hobbit, his lithe figure pressed to the king's chest safely, and Thorin found himself more often than not gazing down at the soft honey curls, once or twice brushing his hand along them. Of course, this was only when no-one could witness.

This was exactly the anomaly he did not need. He had been caught like a moth to a flame, entranced by this creature's beauty and he wanted nothing more than to just cast both of the Halflings aside and carry on regardless. Chancing a glance back to Bofur, he knew that was impossible. The miner was positively smitten with the hobbit known as Hamfast, and Thorin knew any attempt to get rid of him would probably lose him some valuable members of his company.

Growling to himself in frustration at his current situation, he almost did not notice when all of his crew halted, the whinnying of ponies signalling they had indeed stopped. Slowly turning, Thorin was just about to yell at them for wasting time when his eyes widened at the situation. His dwarves were surrounded by elves, bows drawn and mounted on elks of an imposing height advantage.

Turning back to check on his charge, Thorin could almost say he was glad when he encountered a bow drawn at him and not the hobbit.

"What business do twelve dwarfs have here?" One regal looking elf demanded, looking down in distaste at them all.

Before Thorin could bite out an answer, horns rang through the air to announce yet more arrivals. Looking up, the dwarf king spotted an elf that was known by many, the Lord of Rivendell, Elrond. Scowling, his eyes travelled just behind the elven lord to where Gandalf sat atop his own steed. He would most definitely by having words with the wizard later, for his trickery in making them travel unknowingly into elf territory. 

Elrond softly murmured to the earlier regal elf whom had spoken, both parties speaking Sindarin with whatever Elrond had said causing the warriors to lower their weapons. It was Gandalf who rode forward first, while the high elf looked at Thorin and spoke in the elven tongue.

"Did he just insult me?" Thorin spat out, his hatred for the race in front of him only festering more inside him.

Gandalf chuckled heartily, "No, dear Thorin, he offered for you to dine with him..!"

All the dwarves relaxed more at that, and no-one paid any mind to Hamfast who was just staring in awe at the tall species. He couldn't believe he was finally seeing the creatures Bilbo had spent so much time describing to him. They were elegant, and tall and Hamfast felt more than a little overwhelmed by the whole situation. He wondered if the elves would be able to help his friend, and questioned as much.

"Umm.. Mister Elrond, sir?" He mumbled in hesitance, ignoring the tightening of Bofur's hands around his waist as Elrond snapped his head back questioningly, and Thorin snapped his head back to glare at the one who had addressed the tree-huggers. With a pounding heart Hamfast bravely continued on, "Please will you help heal my friend..? Mister Bilbo's sick an' I dun't know 'ow to help 'im."

Looking down at who had spoken, Elrond's eyes widened at the sight of the two hobbits he had not seen before. Sending a suspicious glance to Gandalf, who at least had the decency to not act innocent, he replied in the Common tongue. "Your friend shall be healed, Master Hobbit, I will see to it immediately."

Motioning over two of his comrades, the regal elf gestured to Bilbo and in no time the to elves had pulled him from a reluctant Thorin's grasp and whisked him away to the healing rooms. Hamfast sagged in relief against the chest of Bofur, glad his friend was finally safe and receiving the treatment he needed. He snuggled blindly into the comforting warmth with a small content groan, his tiredness crashing down like waves about him.

"Now little Hamfast.." A husky whisper met his ear, Bofur's breath once again far too close to his sensitive pointed appendage. "Moaning like that could give a dwarf like myself entirely the wrong idea."

Blushing brightly, eyes that he did not realise he had closed suddenly snapping open, Hamfast evacuated from the warm cavern of Bofur's embrace and sputtered softly. "I-I meant no 'arm, Mister Bofur.. 'm sorry.."

Looking down at the hair of the pony, trying to focus on anything but the dwarf behind him, he chewed on his lip, ashamed at himself for not being able to control his body's honest response to his attraction towards the miner. He scrambled to climb off the horse, refusing to hear Bofur's protests as he scampered off in the direction the elves had ridden.

Bofur strung out every Khuzdul curse in his mind, looking down at his treacherous hands that had only wanted to grasp the hobbit and not let go, Did Hamfast really not know how tempting he was? Bofur simply could not contain himself, and he hoped wholeheartedly that he had not permanently scared away the little beauty. He raised his sullen head to find Thorin directing a hard gaze at him, but Bofur could not decipher the meaning behind his King's eyes.

Sagging defeatedly against his pony, he urged the animal on towards the sanctum of Rivendell.

Hours had passed since the elves had taken Bilbo, hobbit and dwarf alike pacing back and forth between the banquet hall and the where he was being tended to.

Hamfast had long since worried himself into a slumber, resting against an ecstatic Bofur as slept away his stresses.

Thorin was standing guard in the ill hobbit’s room, as he had already eaten and had agreed to take watch on the hobbit until Hamfast awoke, to keep account of any changes in Bilbo’s condition. Sighing, he collapsed into a plush, high chair and studied the beautiful figure on the bed.

Sun rays hit the little creature’s face, making his soft blond curls glow like the very gold dwarves coveted. He didn’t look as though he had seen much work, the calluses on his hands matching those he had seen on the lad Ori’s. A scholar, then, he guessed the hobbit to be.

Mahal, if only this Bilbo could speak for himself at this moment. Thorin wished more than anything to hear his voice, listen to him talk of anything and everything and he was certain he could listen for hours…

He shook his head roughly, ignoring how the beads in his hair flew everywhere, and tried to rid himself of such thoughts. He didn’t have time for these sorts of distractions. He would have to seek out Gandalf and assure him these halflings were not permitted to join them on their quest, for Thorin’s own sanity would not withstand it.

Getting himself comfortable in the seat, Thorin allowed himself a moments rest for his eyes. Only Thorin did not realise his body had betrayed him, tiredness catching up with him in the warmth of the room, and only seconds after he had closed his eyes did he fall into slumber.

\------

Light streamed up his body as Bilbo Baggins stretched his aching body, eyes cracking open after what felt like years. Where was he..? Last he remembered good old Hamfast had been all but carrying him through the forest.

He gulped, throat dry. Had they been caught? No.. This bed was much too comfortable for a captive Bearer. Slowly, he surveyed the room, finding nothing amiss. Shelves of books, cabinets, pillars, a dwarf..

Blinking, Bilbo did a double take. A dwarf?! Why was there a dwarf in slumber beside him? And such a majestic, handsome looking one at that. With a small blush forming, Bilbo crawled over to examine the figure further.

Even in sleep the black haired dwarf had a frown marring his features, but his Tookish curiosity was much too great to be intimidated. Gently, he lifted his delicate hand and ran it over a defined cheekbone, trailing it down softly to the beard..

A rough hand shot out and grasped his, wrenching a gasp from the hobbit's throat at the sudden movement. Wide green eyes stared into sharp blue ones, the woken dwarf's fierce gaze making Bilbo shudder.

"You are awake." The dwarf grunted, squeezing the small appendage in his grasp warningly before dropping it.

Bilbo found himself emitting a small squeak of surprise, looking down as his face flooded with red. "I-I.. Who are you..?"

Even if this figure was handsome, he could still be very harmful if it turned out he wasn't a friend, and Bilbo was unsettled enough without the presence of Hamfast anywhere in the room.

"I am--" The rough, silky tones of the dwarf started, but were abruptly cut off by another voice.

"Mister Bilbo!" Came a shout said hobbit would recognise anywhere, and it was only a matter of time before Hamfast had scurried over the distance of the room and launched himself on the gentlehobbit's bed. "Y'had me so worried, Mister Bilbo, fainting' like that, and then not waking up.."

Looking over his friend, Hamfast seemed content with his healing and allowed a beaming smile to take over his features. The dwarf whom had trailed in with his former gardener blushed softly at seeing it, a heated look that did not escape Bilbo's gaze taking over the dwarf's dark eyes.

"Hamfast." He whispered, smiling and embracing his friend. "Where are we, exactly..?"

Who are these people? was also a question wrapped within his previous one, as his eyes travelled worriedly to the other two creatures in the room once more.

The older hobbit was like a babe, filled with glee, as he exclaimed, "Rivendell, Mister Bilbo! We are safe with the elves! And Mister Gandalf is here! You remember his fireworks?"

Awe filled Bilbo's eyes, his mood soaring at the discovery he was safe in the Last Homely House East of the Sea, and the strangers around him were allies indeed.

"Gandalf..?" He breathed, thinking back to his childhood and to the grey Wizard. "I had not known he was still… in business."

And by that, Bilbo meant alive. No word had been heard of the conjurer for some years in the Shire, since long before his mother and father had been taken from him.

"Indeed I am, Bilbo Baggins." As if from nowhere, the wizard materialised, along with a large number of dwarves that came tumbling into the elven room. Bilbo smiled fondly, though he did not know any of them. The dwarves' actions reminded him greatly of the nosy hobbit children in the Shire, though he did not want to think about his current situation he still had very many fond memories of his home.

"Good morning, Gandalf." He greeted, thinking back to his first meeting with the grey clad being and how, as a wee hobbitling, it had confused him greatly when he had merely wished the other a good morning, only to have Gandalf question his simple statement.

If the wizard's soft smile was any indication, he too remembered that encounter. His age was echoed in his voice as he replied, leaning against his staff casually, "And a fine one it is, too, Master Baggins."

Looking around the room at the other guests, Bilbo was at a loss. Quickly, he counted his visitors.. Gandalf, Hamfast, and twelve unknown dwarves stood before him.

"So…" He began, nervously fiddling with the bed sheets, rather self conscious now that no-one had yet filled in the gaps and perhaps introduced the strangers to him. "Why are we gathered at Rivendell..?"

The question seemed unsure even to his own ears, as it still was not the one he had been meaning to ask.

Gandalf seemed to catch on. "You, my dear Bilbo, are now in the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, and will aid us all on this rather momentous adventure."

It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him, and he knew it had to have been because Gandalf did not just say he would be joining these dwarves on an adventure. Oh no, he just wanted to find a quiet place to make his new home and be done with it, none of this adventure stuff.

"N-no, I think you definitely have the wrong hobbits..! There's no adventurous bones in this body, Gandalf.."

If he had to ignore the downtrodden looks of unknown dwarves, Bilbo most certainly would.

"I told you, Wizard." That same strong voice boomed, and Bilbo looked to the dwarf who had been sat with him. Thorin, he assumed. The next words were spat with too much venom for Bilbo not to take personally, "This Halfling is nothing but a grocer."

Tense, Bilbo met the fierce eyes of this 'Thorin' with an equally heated glare. All previous thoughts of the dwarf being handsome had flown from his mind. "Now look here you, you-- Orcheaded dwarf! I am a respectable hobbit and do not deserve to be downgraded in that manner!"

And so began a glaring match between the two, neither letting up even as a parchment was shoved into Bilbo's hand and Gandalf urged him to sign. He did so, never once breaking contact with the unfairly handsome yet arrogant blue eyes of one Thorin Oakenshield.

However, his eyes did snap up when he heard a gleeful announcement from Gandalf. "It is settled, then. Bilbo Baggins and Hamfast Gamgee shall be joining us on our quest."

"What?!"


End file.
